


Drabble #15 – “You are completely unfit to handle a child.”

by you_make_me_wander



Series: Birthday drabbles [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_make_me_wander/pseuds/you_make_me_wander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles decides that babysitting is a great way to make some easy money to help his dad pay their bills. Lydia tags along to make sure everything turns out okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble #15 – “You are completely unfit to handle a child.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little fluff. Stydia with kids it’s always a must.

**Dedication** : For Emily, toofarforward on tumblr. Happy birthday, honey!

* * *

 

“You are completely unfit to handle a child,” Lydia teases with a smile, closing the Stilinskis’ front door behind her and making her way to the living room, where Stiles is sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, legs crossed under him and completely entertained with the two kids he’s babysitting, colorful pens on the table and on the floor and on his lap… Everywhere around him, really.

Stiles frowns at her comment, the blue pen he had in his mouth falling to the coffee table making the five year old beside him chuckle at Stiles’ facial expression. “Why?”

Lydia has a snarky comeback on the tip of her tongue, but before she can say it she rushes to his side, worried. “Stiles!”

He startles and follows Lydia’s line of sight immediately at her concerned tone, turning back to find the one year old wanting to get out of the couch by himself. Stiles catches him in time, already used to it. “Come here, big guy. Where did you think you were going, uh?” he muses, sitting the baby boy on his lap. “He’s been doing this all afternoon, Lyds, I’ve got it covered.”

“Oh, you do?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and sitting on the couch beside Stiles, her knee bumping against his shoulder playfully as she bends over to make a silly face at the baby.

Stiles takes advantage of her being so close to him to steal a kiss on her cheek. “Hi.”

Lydia pecks his lips quickly in return. “Hi.”

“So…Unfit to handle a child, you say? Why would you ever think that?”

The goofy grin on Stiles’ face ends up making her laugh. The five year old laughs along with her. “He almost fell,” she tells her boyfriend pointedly even if it’s not what she’d meant at first, picking up the baby from Stiles to sit him on her lap instead.

“I got distracted for like a second,” Stiles mutters. “It was your fault, you distracted me.”

The baby starts playing with Lydia’s hair right away, grabbing at her fiery curls and trying to put them in his mouth. “Lets pretend that that was it,” she says jokingly. “And who’s this little guy?”

“That’s Max,” Stiles says after sticking out his tongue at the other kid, who was trying to rob the red pen from him. The kid laughs and steals it anyway. “He’s the devil’s brother. This is Damian, he’s the devil,” Stiles chuckles.

He points at his art companion and the kid slaps Stiles’ arm playfully, pouting, blushing when Lydia turns her attention to him. “ _I am not_.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she tells Damian. “My name is Lydia. Stiles can be a little annoying sometimes, right? I’m sure you’re an angel.”

It’s Damian’s turn to stick his tongue out at Stiles. “See?”

Stiles looks at his girlfriend incredulous, feigning shock to amuse the little one. “I- I can’t believe you.”

“I can’t believe _you_. Stiles, I thought we’d agreed on keeping everything relatively tidied.”

They did.

It’s the summer before their third year at Stanford, and ever since they started college, Stiles has taken upon himself to babysit every time they have bigger breaks and come home to visit their families as a way of helping his dad with the bills.

Turns out neither the Sheriff nor Lydia (who Stiles has been dating since the end of senior year of high school) trust him that much around children for long periods of time, let alone unsupervised, so Lydia usually stops by to make sure that a catastrophe doesn’t happen.

(They don’t talk much about the time when Stiles was so distracted by Lydia when she had showed up at the neighborhood playground that he almost left with her and forgot about Tea, the little girl he was babysitting then.

Or the time when he was doing clay with the seven year old twins and clay was pretty much everywhere when she got home with the Sheriff after they’d picked up dinner for everyone and those are just two of the reasons why they have rules now. Stiles babysits but things have to be, at the very least, tidied and controlled and clean.

Lydia is at fault, really, always. At least that’s how he sees it.

It’s not his fault that he’s dating a goddess and that she has this innate talent to show up exactly when she shouldn’t.)

“Well, it’s not so bad today,” he complains. “It’s just pens. Everything else is where it’s supposed to. Even the little devil here helped me put away the toys before we had lunch,” Stiles says, patting the young boy on the shoulder.

Damian beams proudly and Lydia mirrors him, running her free hand through Stiles’ hair out of habit. “See, Stiles? Damian can behave.”

The boy chuckles, Stiles frowns. “Whose side are you on?” Before Lydia can answer, Max starts kicking off his feet and stirring, trying to get to the floor. “Oh, put him down,” Stiles exclaims enthusiastically. “Mrs. Turner said we should encourage him to walk a little more for practice.”

“Practice for what?” Lydia asks teasingly.

It doesn’t escape Stiles how she blushes, and boy does he feel butterflies in his stomach.

They’ve been together for two years already, and things between them are as good and healthy as having a romantic relationship with their best friend can be. Sure they bicker and nag at each other and argue just a little too much but that’s _them_ , and Stiles couldn’t honestly be happier.

They moved in together in their first year at college. It didn’t make sense that they were both attending the same university and dating and living apart. Saving money for the future was untouched subject at first but soon came around, especially when an inconvenience forbid them of coming home for their first Christmas and they got to spend it by themselves.

Ever since then, the fact that their future lies with the other is just an admission of what they know to be the truth, not much of a dream anymore, and so plans for the future are made from time to time. They’ve discussed lightly a proposal after they’re finished with college, then Lydia getting her Fields Medal, only after that kids. Children is not a subject they discuss often at all but sometimes, mostly in jest, both express their desire of having a child eventually.

He can’t seriously wait for it, though, even if he’s just twenty. He’s been waiting for so long to have his life with Lydia now.

“For Max to practice walking, not for us to practice swooning over him practicing walking, obviously,” he replies cheekily, gaining another peck before Lydia gets up to put the toddler down, holding his hands at first for him not to fall.

“Ohhhh.”

Both Lydia and Stiles turn to face Damian, who’s looking at both of them surprised. “What’s wrong, honey?” Lydia asks sweetly.

“You kissed,” the boy murmurs, putting his little hand over his mouth for good measure since he’d missed the first kiss because he was coloring his book.

Stiles blushes despite himself. “Well, Lydia is my girlfriend so I get to kiss her.”

“Like mommy and daddy?” the boy asks, curious.

Lydia starts walking with Max slowly, only one of her hands on his now. “Something like that, yes,” she answers.

“Are you married?”

Stiles chuckles. “Not yet, buddy. But someday.”

The looks Stiles shares with Lydia makes her want to kiss him senseless. She grins. “Yeah, someday.”

“Can I go to your wedding?”

Stiles tries his best not to comment on how Damian hasn’t stopped asking questions all afternoon. “I don’t know. If you behave, maybe.”

The boy ponders about it some, choosing a different color to continue his work of art. “She’s really pretty,” he tells Stiles, his eyes on the paper as Stiles raises his eyebrows suggestively at Lydia.

“She’s the prettiest. But I have dibs.”

“Why, thank you,” Lydia chuckles freely, stopping a few feet away from Stiles and getting down on her knees behind little Max, who’s maintaining his balance on his own, Lydia’s hand on his waist ghostly just in case. “You think he’ll come over to you?” she asks her boyfriend, eager to try it.

She and Stiles around children always ends up with them having some parenting experience of some sort and she can’t shake away the feeling that someday, eventually, they’ll get to have it with their own kids and dammit, she can’t lie, she can’t wait for that.

“I think so. I let him wander around a bit when Damian was napping and it went fine.”

“Wanna try it?”

It’s the hope he sees in her eyes that has him nodding. “Yeah, come on.” Stiles kneels too and turns to face Max, his attention briefly on Damian. “Tell you what, you little devil. If Max walks all the way over to me, I’ll let you have cookies for dessert. How does that sound?”

Damian claps his hands excitedly, eyes wide. “Cookies!”

“You need to help me call Max then, alright?” The boy nods solemnly. “Okay, Lyds. We’re ready.”

Lydia purses her lips in a smile before giving in to a full grin, kissing the baby’s temple before holding one of his hands and encourage him to start walking. “Come on, Max, lets go.”

“Come here, buddy,” Stiles incites, reaching his arms to make sure that the baby moves in his direction.

Max seems unsure at first, turning back to look at Lydia and putting his fingers in his mouth, but then he turns around to the excited calls of both Stiles and Damian and he starts walking their way, unsteady steps and swaying a bit but he goes, and Lydia is crawling behind him completely thrilled.

He reaches Stiles soon enough – he wasn’t that far at all, really – and Stiles scoops him up in his arms and then holds him high, making the toddler let out a delicious baby giggle that has Stiles and Lydia laughing all too enthusiastically, and these are the moments Lydia thinks about when the supernatural decides to knock on their door and make their lives a living hell again, the moments when they get to be freely, truly happy over such small things like babysitting someone else’s kids.

“Do I get cookies?”

“You sure get cookies,” Stiles tells Damian. “Max did great,” he whispers, sitting the toddler on his lap again and tickling him.

Lydia sits on the floor beside Stiles, one of her hands around his waist and the other playing with Max’s little feet. “He really did. And you’re doing great too, Damian. I love your drawing,” she praises. “Would you let me color with you?”

The boy nods all too eagerly for having her attention and pushes his book over to her. “You can have the blue. I don’t want it anymore,” he says, bending over the coffee table to get yet another pen after Lydia accepts the blue one.

She starts coloring the tail of a mermaid. It’s only fitting.

“Blue is pretty,” Stiles whispers just for her to hear, and Lydia gives in to a knowing smile. “You’re pretty,” he mumbles, kissing just below her ear inconspicuously.

Lydia glances at him, adoration in her eyes. “ _You_ ’re pretty.”

Stiles kisses her this time.

This is why every single kid he babysits ends up telling their parents that Stiles is _too lame_ but that’s he’s okay. Apparently, he’s _cool_ when he babysits and the kids want more of it and he’s funny when he’s with Lydia because he gets embarrassed because of her sometimes. Stiles can’t exactly say he dislikes it hearing it.

If it gives him the opportunity of having such a happy escape from their running-for-our-lives routine and he has Lydia to share the experience with, he can totally live with that.


End file.
